


When the World Eater Wakes

by harleytje



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Lots of Original Characters - Freeform, Multi, Rewritten Main Quest, Skyrim Main Quest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22242457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harleytje/pseuds/harleytje
Summary: Ma'hlia just wanted to travel and see more of the world outside of Elsweyr. Following what feels like fate she ends up in Skyrim, caught up in turmoil and danger, close to losing everything she cared about- including herself.
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

The Solrhusra household was never calm.

We had a large family that never went very far since we had several buildings on our land. Moving out to start a family meant just moving some belongings to the building two minutes away and redecorating a little. My father had built many of the buildings with his father and grandfather, and I knew it filled him with pride knowing my six siblings and I would live there and not stray too far.

So while we scattered across our lands for our own space, we often spent together. We would cook our meals on the fire pit outside and crowd round on low tables and mats on the ground to eat. It was busy and noisy, even more so since my two older sisters had married and given me nieces and nephews. There was always overlapping conversations and laughter, nearly always a baby to coo over or a child to coax into trying vegetables. We would often get distant relatives stopping by unannounced too. But they always brought stories to tell and spiced meats to cook.

And when the sun set and our bellies were full, the children would run off the last of their energy in the trees, grandmother would amuse us with small spells and my father would talk business or dole out words of wisdom. Until eventually we'd have to clear up and the little ones were carried off to bed.

Growing up in the large family was all I was used to, my father had four siblings and loved the idea of having a house full of his own children. I grew up surrounded by people, my earliest memories were of curling up to sleep in one big bed with my older sisters and my mother, before she passed. And when she died and we mourned her, there was always someone there to hold me or wipe away my tears. My father eventually remarried. I went from three siblings to six and as my sisters grew older I gained a brother and a sister through marriage.

So there were always younger siblings or nieces and nephews to help out with; chores around the land to be done and my seamstress work for the nearby village. There was very little alone time in our family, which had never bothered me for the first 22 years of my life but something had changed.

I ignored it at first, the little niggling feeling in my gut. It was the same kind of feeling I got right before I realized I was running late for an errand or when I had managed to get myself lost on a new path. It was the feeling of being in the wrong place and it didn't matter whether I was visiting a nearby moon sugar plantation, painting in the meadow, reading the children stories by the fire- the feeling didn't shift. At night it was even worse. I would toss and turn, hovering between sleep and waking. I would have dreams of places I had never seen before. My sketchpads filled up with half remembered scenery that was so unlike the Elsweyr forests or instead it was blurred faces of people who looked so strange compared to my Khajiit family and friends.

I didn't know what any of it meant. So I tried to keep it buried it deep inside me and hoped it would pass.

It didn't work. I'd find myself drifting into thought while I got dressed about what clothes would fit in my bags if I traveled. I turned down a date with the Ohmes boy I'd had a crush on for as long as I could remember because it suddenly felt wrong. My family would constantly be snapping me out of a daze and tut at me while I stammered excuses- not wanting to tell them that for a moment the trees had vanished and rising mountains replaced them, seeming to call out to me.

Several months passed in that fashion. It wasn't until a week after my 23rd birthday that something really changed, all thanks to another dream. This one wasn't hazy visions of mountains and a cold, blue sky. It barely felt like a dream at all.

I was standing in an empty stone room, with intricate and beautiful carvings all on the walls. I knew I was dreaming yet I didn't wake, instead I got to pace the room, running my hands along the marks on the wall. There was writing that I couldn't read and figures holding weapons against a range of creatures. Some of the pictures reminded me of the ones I saw in books, historic ones that spoke about the Oblivion crisis. Others hosted different creatures, ones crawling out of the ground or flying above buildings.

"I see you have discovered your history, Ma'hlia."

The voice startled me and I whipped round, but there was nobody else in the room with me. I stared hard into the shadowy corners but nothing appeared. My heart hammered and I tried chanting internally to myself to wake up.

"This isn't an ordinary dream, child. And there is no need for you to fear me. I am only here to guide you onto the path you know you must take. This is your history, your future, the destiny of your soul etched on stone. There's only so long you can deny what must come to pass."

The voice was calm and melodious, the kind of voice that put me at ease. It almost reminded me of my mother though it was impossible to determine the gender. Not when I was trying to make sense of what was being said.

"I... I don't understand how any of this has to do with me? I haven't gone to any battles or anything like that. I... Do you mean my ancestors or something?"

There was a faint sound, like rushing water or a gust of wind. It was otherwordly yet reminded me of the good-natured sighs my father would give before teaching us children something. But this... voice, whatever it was, carried an even more ancient and wise aura than anyone I knew. Whoever or whatever this voice belonged to, I somehow knew it was beyond mortality as I knew it.

"No I do not mean your ancestors, not in the way you think of them at least. At pivotal points in history there have been chosen people who must do what is needed and are destined for a fate more than the one they expect. Those people are part of your history because you are one of them. They are part of you and you will need to remember their strength and carry it with you in the times ahead, Ma'hlia."

I frowned, more than a little confused. This was more cryptic than when grandmother read my tea leaves with a twinkle in her eye.

"I don't understand what you mean. Who are you? What do you want from me?"

"All will become clear in time."

I tried to say something but as quick as I could open my mouth I was suddenly snapping upright in bed.

I was cold and clammy with sweat, feeling as if I'd run a mile or so in my sleep. My eyes darted around the room as if I could locate that mysterious voice but all I could see was the crumpled pile of clothes on the floor and an old cobweb up in the corner of the ceiling. I sat staring at it for several long moments, my mind in turmoil as I replayed the dream in my head.

I wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep, hopefully when the little ones came to wake me in the morning the dream would have faded from my mind and I could go about my day in peace. But I didn't pull the blanket back over me and instead I moved purely on instinct, pulling my warmest clothes out my wardrobe and packing them into father's old hunting pack.

When I was nearly done, sunlight was filtering through my small window. Clothes that didn't fit in my pack were neatly folded in piles so my wardrobe was bare and I had stripped my bed. Even my watercolors and charcoal drawings were taken down from the wall, my sketching tools tucked away safely in my pack with my clothes. I was about to slip downstairs to organize rations and waterskins or canteens.

But I could hear the house waking up and before I could go anywhere there was a flurry of footsteps and S'inji burst into my room with Reina on his back, both of them laughing.

S'inji had only been a baby really when our mother had died and although he had her eyes, he looked more like our step-mother, Zilaasi, than anyone else. He was 11 years older than Reina, the eldest of our half-siblings but they were thick as thieves. We all loved the little ones as much as each other, they were still family to us. But my older sisters and I still missed our mother so much- S'inji had little memory of her so had no problem with calling Zilaasi his mother and always hated when we called the younger kids 'half-siblings'.

"Time for breakfast, Ma'hlia! Mama is letting us go fishing today but we have to eat first!" Reina launched herself off S'inji's back- that girl had no fear- and into my arms in a flurry of fur and laughter. "Thenna is coming, but he said he's only coming if you come too and tell us stories! And you gotta bake something nice- ooh maybe you can make those tarts you made last time!"

I couldn't help but smile, Thenna trailing into the room too at the sound of his name. He was Reina's twin but while she was loud and rambunctious and forever talking, Thenna liked to sit and watch what was happening, only speaking after long consideration. He was like a miniature version of father, but with a bigger sweet tooth. And of course he was the one with the watchful eyes that actually noticed the changes in my room, moments before S'inji spotted it too.

I gently set Reina back on the floor as I watched the boys frowning at the packed bag and empty wardrobe. I said nothing as S'inji muttered something about getting an adult and darted out the room- what was I supposed to say to two seven year-old's that were suddenly staring up at me with mournful eyes?

"You're leaving," Thenna said it as a statement, not a question and with such a solemn little voice that Reina burst into noisy tears. Guilt overwhelmed me and I almost upturned my bag there and then to change my mind. What was I thinking? How could I leave the little ones- if the twins couldn't understand how could Rhusi, who was only four? Or my sisters' kids, five of them between the two of them and some barely walking and talking? They wouldn't even remember me by the time I got back.

I was dithering between comforting Reina and undoing my hard work when suddenly I had a concerned Zilaasi scooping both the twins into her arms, my father and grandmother behind her. Zilaasi had a hard look on her face, protective over her babies that I had inadvertently upset and my father looked so confused you'd think someone would have just told him that the trees had started walking and talking. Only my grandmother looked serene as always, coming over and taking my hand.

Her hands were course and calloused from her years of work, but always gentle when holding mine. These were the hands that bathed and clothed me as an infant, had combed my unruly curls as I grew, the hands that taught me how to repair a piece of clothing and stitch a hem. These were the hands that had given me the gift of my tattoos at 16, the stripes up my arms, legs and cheeks to mimic the pattern my mother's fur had carried. My grandmother was the one who did so much for all of us, especially all the times I had gone to her feeling isolated or worried. She would listen patiently, smooth back my hair and kiss my forehead and tell me everything would me okay.

I drew strength from her grip and swallowed, straightening up and meeting my father's curious gaze.

"I'm leaving. I… I want to travel and see all the different lands before I have my family. Like you did, father," I sent him a pleading look but his face was unreadable as he stared in silence. Zilaasi straightened and gave me a gentler look before ushering the twins back downstairs. "I have to do this. I can't explain why, it's like the stars and the moons whisper to me at night. It... It's my fate and I have to listen. I love being here and I love you all but I need this."

My grandmother squeezed my hand gently, I knew without looking at her that she was giving her seal of approval. I kept my eyes locked on my father- the one whose opinion mattered the most. He gazed back at me, no doubt seeing my mother in me as he often said he did. His expression as always was impossible to read and my stomach twisted as he opened his mouth to speak, to settle any arguments or to turn down my plans. If he disapproved, I knew I would be lost.

"I will help you pack."


	2. Chapter 2

Leaving my home behind and saying goodbye to my family was the hardest thing I had ever done. I was glad to be alone for the first few hours only because it meant nobody could see me break down in tears every few minutes and go to turn back. I never got more than a few steps back before my inner resolve hardened again and I kept moving.

My days became so different to anything else I'd experienced. I would plot my paths out on old maps and try and stick to smaller towns- just enough to rent a bed every now and then and top of my food supplies. Those were the few times I saw people again, meeting Pahmer soldiers that complimented my hair and Alfiq who couldn't speak but cast illumination spells for us to pour over the maps together. I learned what places to avoid, the quickest path North and even had one friendly Bosmer trade me some spell books in return for some baked goods I'd brought with me.

It was some company that broke up the isolated and monotonous walks I took through forest and jungle and even close to the desert areas. At times though I found myself longing to have the little ones around begging me to tell them a story, or to have my grandmother chat to me as I prepared a meagre dinner over my campfire. I truly missed my nightly walks with my father the most, sometimes I'd find myself staring up at the stars and the pang of missing him would be so strong I could have sworn I could smell the smoke from his pipe.

But as time passed, I still mourned the loss of the company, but I found myself no longer tearing up as I wrote in my journal of what I wanted to tell my family. I began to relish the peace and quiet of my wandering, especially as I left Elsweyr. I had time to explore the new terrain and the interesting architecture of Cyrodiil.  
With nobody else to please I could stop for two hours to sketch a single flower if I wanted to, and I often did. The meals I cooked were eaten with nobody fighting for a larger portion or a baby needing fed between bites. 

After two months, I enjoyed my solitude.

Travelling through Cyrodiil, however, was intimidating. I knew this wasn't where I was meant to be, I still felt the pull to travel further North, but I couldn't help being curious. People I stopped to chat to told me how the cities were former shells of their previous glory, but I still marvelled at the buildings and busy cities. Plenty of those in the towns and cities were curious about me too- asking slightly invasive questions about my appearance differing to other Khajiit they'd seen travel through.

At first, I was patient, telling them the difference between the Cathay they were used to and Ohmes-raht like myself. I pointed out how I did actually have fur, it was just so short that the areas it covered it was hard to tell. I explained how my markings were tattoos that were culturally significant back in my home and represented my coming of age back home.

After a few times though, I got tired of the long-winded explanations and started to avoid people once again. I missed having my father around, his towering frame would have stopped any rude or abrupt questions.

I stuck close to the rivers and lakes as I travelled, finding fishing a lot easier than hunting or venturing into the busier places to buy things. 

My gold supply was starting to run a little low too and I was trying to be sensible with it. The last thing I wanted was to end up stranded somewhere, far from my goal. I still had yet to see the looming mountains from my dreams.

The dreams had tapered off for a while, but the hazy images of mountains were still there, even when I was dreaming about other things. Dreams about my family had them turn into tall, blonde, human strangers. Every so often the voice would echo, just whispering my name and every time I’d wake up feeling slightly panicked.

I sat awake; journal open in my hands but with nothing written down. I didn’t know what to say that hadn’t already been said. I’d written so much about my dreams, trying to think up theories of who the voice belonged to and why it wanted me to leave home and travel to foreign lands. 

I stared up at the stars, slowly fading out as the sun rose and lightened the sky. Was I crazy for being here? Had I made a mistake? 

Dropping my head in my hands, I let out a low groan. I’d went over these same arguments every time I had one of these dreams and I never got anywhere new. I was either following fate or completely crazy. Maybe following this kind of fate was completely crazy too. 

There was no use in trying get to sleep now, I wriggled out my bed roll and started packing up my camp. I just had to keep moving and not think too hard about it. There would be an answer at the end of this journey, I had to accept that.

I pulled out my map, exhaling slowly to calm myself down. My maps were my constant companion. I'd trace how far I'd come and plot my future course, drawing my finger up until it hovered over the unknown towns in Skyrim. Just looking at it on the map made something click into place in my head. That was where I had to go first.

I pulled my pack onto my back, adjusting the straps and rolling my map back up. I had to head to Skyrim, there would be answers there. I hoped.

The weather was getting colder and colder the closer I got to the border. 

I spent some of the last of my gold on a thick fur cloak to wrap around me and use as a blanket at night. Just listening to people describe the amount of snow that would fall up in the North made me shiver and regret swapping the warm weather of Elsweyr for a foreign country with what seemed like uninhabitable weather. I just had to focus on the belief that something up in the stars and moons were guiding me. I put all my faith into them for now.

The mountains were difficult to travel through, but thankfully there were a few travellers native to Skyrim that were happy to point me in the right direction after I struggled the first couple of days. They even let me pitch my tent with them when we were just shy of the border.

We crowded round the fire together while the tallest of the men, who introduced himself as Tulvar, prepared a fresh venison stew. The shorter one, who cheerfully told me they called him Hodlin the Stout, crouched over my map adding some places of interest for me.

"So, what brings you to Skyrim then, lass?" The woman of the group, Setta, asked, passing me a bottle of Ale. The accents were so different to back in Elsweyr and it took me a moment to process what she said and remember to answer in the right language.

"I wanted to travel, see beyond my family home," I took a swallow of Ale and paused, not wanting to explain my dreams or beliefs about faith. I had no idea what these Nords believed about fate, I didn’t want my new companions to think I was crazy. "It's such a different country from Elsweyr... I'm curious."

"You're comin' as everyone else wants to leave," Hodlin gave a barking laugh and handed me back my map, the wet ink shining in the firelight. "Plenty to see and do if you want to be a soldier, but it's too miserable for us now. I want a nice bed and nicer company, not the constant shit stains talkin' about what side you're on and then threatenin' to gut you over your opinion."

Setta snorted under her breath as I stared at them, unsure on whether this was a joke or if things were seriously that bad. I stared at the ink Hodlin had etched on my map, trying to work out what town I’d go to first and if it was possible to avoid the trouble they were talking about.

Thoughts churning, I tucked the map away as Tulvar announced the venison was ready and handed out the bowls of stew.

We huddled closer round the fire as we ate in relative silence. The venison was tender and nice, but I missed the spices and flavourings from Elsweyr. Even some moon sugar would have made it a nice mixture of savoury and sweet, but I supposed that would be less enjoyable for those who didn't have the tolerance for the substance. Even if it did taste a little bland compared to what I was used to, it was warm and filling and between us there were no leftovers.

We used melted snow and ice to rinse the bowls and I dragged my sleeping furs out of the tent and next to the fire so I could listen to my new companions. 

Hodlin drank more than a few bottles of Ale, which was apparently quite normal for Nords, and sang a song about a man named Ragnar that made me laugh- though Setta shouted her disagreement throughout. Tulvar regarded the two's joking insults with a warm look. The three were obviously close, though they didn't look related. I was curious as to how they had ended up travelling together but I didn't feel I knew them well enough to pry. Instead, I sipped my own Ale and watched.

The way they interacted so warm and playful and familiar reminded me of my siblings and I smiled. I was warm, well-fed and had some company I enjoyed; it was hard not to be content. 

My eyes started to droop, and I yawned. After a few moments Tulvar caught my eye and chuckled.

"You look tired, Ma'hlia. Are we keeping you up past your bedtime?" He teased gently, reminding me again of my siblings. I gave him an indulgent smile, but my reply was stifled by another yawn.

"Aye. It's getting late, lass," Setta glanced to the sky and huddled further under her own blanket. "Perhaps it's time we all went to sleep, we're travelling early tomorrow after all."  
The men murmured their agreement and slowly we retreated to our separate tents. They had one much larger than mine, space enough for all three of them but I was glad of my own space when I heard Hodlin's snoring through the night. 

The embers of the fire gave enough warmth and I felt safer knowing there were people nearby, even if I may not have known them that well.  
I slipped into an easy, dreamless sleep. No mountains or mystery voice for me this time. When I woke to the sound of Setta and Tulvar laughing at something, I felt better rested than I had for weeks.

We packed up our supplies together, Tulvar slicing some bread I had shared and toasting it over the fire with apples and cheese. I expected to miss the flavourings of home again, but the apples were sweet, and the cheese was creamy once it melted over the fire. I ended up having seconds, then thirds. 

My love for food meant I still carried the extra weight around my midsection, but it no longer bothered me. Thinking about the cold up ahead made me glad I had extra padding to keep me warm.

"If you ever end up in the South of Elsweyr, look out for the Solrhusra farm. I'm sure my family would love to cook for you in return for your kindness," I gave the trio an impulsive hug. "They worried I wouldn't encounter any kindness from strangers."

"Well you can't get stranger than us," Setta laughed, giving me a tight squeeze in return.

"Just be careful of some of those strangers, especially in the bigger holds. Not everyone is welcoming to outsiders," Tulvar looked solemn and the other two shifted uncomfortably. "Look after yourself Ma'hlia. I have a good feeling about you. I'm sure we'll meet again."

I watched them leave, already missing the company as they disappeared from view. 

Granted we had only spent a day and night together, but it had been fun to spend time with them. They’d been the first group of Nords I’d met, but they’d been so kind and made me feel like I’d made the right choice. I sent up a silent prayer that Tulvar was right and we would meet again before I turned and continued on my way. 

The mountains loomed over me as a I went, a strange and a stark contrast to the jungle I was used to. Yet somehow it felt like I was where I belonged.


End file.
